Getting Caught Off Guard
by sparrowlove
Summary: Castiel eats pie and tells Dean things he doesn't want to hear. DeanCastiel. General season 4 spoilers


Dean wondered if it was some predatory adaptation. Like those animals—he thought they were either frogs or insects, but he couldn't remember exactly what species he was trying to make a comparison to—that used bright colors to lure prey. Like Venus fly traps, using enticing smells to attract their victims. Not that Dean was feeling attracted. He was just trying to understand why an angel—an angel of the freaking Lord, supposedly (and even someone like Dean was having trouble feeling suspicious about Castiel's religious backing) why an angel was sitting across from him in a seedy diner in the middle of the night and eating a piece of cherry pie as though he was in, well, heaven.

"Dean." Castiel's voice was soft, as always. There was a bit of cherry filling on his lower lip and Dean had the sudden urge to reach over and wipe it away. Then, feeling thoroughly disgusted with himself (he'd been having those sorts of thoughts too often lately, and it had to stop, but there was something about Castiel that was just... well, fine, attractive), he responded.

"Cas?"

"You were staring."

"I was thinking," Dean asserted. "How do you know that this is the next seal? Is there a record? Can't you just preemptively block them from being broken?"

"It's not that simple."

"Course it isn't. You're all-powerful, and you can't do shit."

"We are not all powerful, Dean," Cas replied quietly.

"The big man up top then. Even if you're just a henchman, he's got to be able to do something."

"There are certain things even the all-powerful are not capable of. Where is Sam?"

Dean thought that was a good question. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he knew the answer. He didn't think the angel would be happy to know that Sam was continuing to see... her.

"He's busy," Dean answered, not meeting Castiel's unwavering gaze. He was sure Castiel knew anyway.

Dean looked up. Still unable to look Cas in the eye, he looked instead at his mouth, where the bit of cherry pie was still staining his lips red.

"You have, uh..." Dean muttered. Castiel raised an eyebrow. Without hesitating to realize that he was about to do what he had been trying to avoid doing the entire time they had been sitting in the dirty booth in the near-empty restaurant, Dean reached forward and brushed at Cas's lips with his fingers. Castiel grasped Dean's hand in his own and Dean realized what he was doing.

"Dean," Castiel said, nearly whispering.

"Look, man," Dean said, "I don't know what's going on with you, but—"

"Dean," Castiel said again, mildly. "You were the one with his hand on my face."

"No," Dean accused, "You're doing something. What are you? You're not Cas; is it another siren? A—"

"Dean," Cas said for a third time, and this time his voice was stern. "Let's go." He stood up and Dean followed without thinking, tossing some money onto the table as he walked out behind the angel.

In the dark outside the diner, Castiel put his hands on Dean's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. Any outsider would see the gesture as friendly, loving, maybe even brotherly, but Castiel's stare was too intense for normal polite conversation. "Dean," he said, "You're not thinking. You're being rash. You could get yourself killed; you could get Sam killed, if you don't start thinking."

"You leave Sam out of this," Dean growled.

"You know as well as I do that Sam cannot be left out of this. But fine, for now we will not discuss your brother. When was the last time you slept?" Dean couldn't remember. "You have to be alert," Castiel continued.

"Listen," Dean said angrily. "I was doing this job a long time before I met you, and you don't need to tell me to be alert. I know damn well I need to be alert. Otherwise, would it really have taken the baddest of all of those sonsofbitches to kill me?"

"Lilith," Castiel responded, "as you know, is not the worst thing you will encounter. If she could reach you, there are others. You cannot let yourself be caught off guard."

"Who are you to tell me not to be caught off guard? You said yourself that you're not as powerful as you want people to think you are; maybe you should worry about not being caught off—" Castiel stopped Dean's ranting by suddenly moving a hand from Dean's shoulder to the back of his head and pulling Dean forward to meet his lips. Dean tasted cherry pie. He hesitated, and then didn't pull away.

When Castiel broke the kiss (and, Dean had to admit, it was Cas who broke the kiss. Dean would've been perfectly happy to let things stay the way they were), a small smile played across his face. "Like I said," he whispered, "you might get caught off guard."


End file.
